ON DAY TWO of the school festival, our café enjoyed a modicum of peace,
thanks to those idiot customers reaping the consequences of their foolish
behavior the day before.
If I had to name one problem, though…
"Livia, please take care of that table over there."
"Um, okay!"
Our two waitresses had descended into some seriously awkward vibes around
one another.
"Are those two really okay?" Raymond asked.
"Probably feeling the effects from yesterday," I guessed. "I wish they could
shrug it off—that customer was talking straight nonsense."
Even though Angie and Livia kept looking like they each had something to say
to the other, neither could find the courage to speak first.
"Let's keep an eye on them for now," I suggested. "I'm sure they'll figure it
out soon enough."
"I'm not so sure," said Raymond. "They come from completely different walks
of life. That was inevitably going to impact their friendship."
Given Raymond had the emotional sophistication of a brick, those words
weren't entirely convincing coming from him, but I did get it, kind of. The
wealthy and impoverished had vastly different opinions on just about
everything, rooted in vastly divergent values. Likewise, Angie and Livia often
viewed things from opposite ends of the spectrum.
I glanced at the clock. "Maybe they need a break."
Raymond adjusted his glasses. "That might be a good idea. We don't have
many customers right now."
Honestly, after the disaster of yesterday, I was fine with fewer guests.
However, Raymond seemed genuinely concerned. "You know, we really are
going to end up in the red at this rate."
"It's fine. I can reel in cash on the last day thanks to you-know-what." I
grinned at him.
"Oh, you must be talking about… Hey, wait! More gambling?!"
On the last day of the festival, we had a few exhibitions, or specifically,
contests. These events allowed students to display skills they'd honed during
their time at the academy and were the real centerpieces of the festival. Each
one promised a cash prize. Naturally, everyone placed bets on who would win.
While I did question the ethics of running a gambling ring at a school festival, I
couldn't help but see it as a prime opportunity to rake in the dough. After all, I
had Luxion at my side. His ability to gather information and analyze the lineup
exponentially increased my odds of winning. Already, I could pick out the
winners with reasonable confidence.
Raymond shook his head. "You sure do love a wager."
Excuse me!
"Just the opposite, I hate gambling."
But on the other hand, I absolutely loved winning.
***
Livia and Angie walked around the school together, surrounded by the
enthusiasm of the festival. Normally, the two walked arm in arm, but today,
they maintained a brittle distance.
Livia had no idea what Angie was thinking or feeling, and it seemed as if Angie
couldn't figure out how best to approach Livia either. Livia guessed that neither
of them had ever given much thought to the disparity in their upbringings
before. However, as of yesterday, a gap had formed between them.
Finally, Angie said, "This crepe tastes really good."
"Y-yeah, it does."
And that was the end of their conversation.
Minutes passed in silence as Livia struggled to determine how best to speak,
but the more she thought, the more awkward it became.
In the midst of this, her eyes landed on a display board: a list of the
participants in the airbike race. Participants were chosen from each grade, and
those who won their respective races moved on to face other top contenders in
a bracket-style tournament. Competitors continued to move up until the final
race determined the victor. A few other events were also slated to take place,
but the spectators seemed especially excited for the airbike race.
Livia glanced through the other events on the board. "There sure are a lot
more matches for the airbike tournament than any other event."
Angie lifted her chin, emboldened by the opportunity to impart knowledge.
"The airbike race is the most popular of all the events and is highly anticipated
every year. The format is simple, and the tournament element increases the fun
of betting. The other events are relatively straightforward, or one-round
competitions—you merely put your money on who you think likely to win in the
end—whereas for the airbike race, you can also predict the order in which the
competitors will cross the finish line. There's also a rather large payout for the
victor."
(In modern terms, you'd liken it to horse or boat racing. Money shifted hands
in enormous sums throughout the duration of the tournament as well.) Livia's
eyes widened, impressed. "You sure know a lot about this."
Angie grinned tentatively. "I've attended the festival several times, even
before I enrolled at the academy. A rather promising candidate is expected to
take the championship this year, but Jilk is representing the first-years, and he's
a more than proficient rider. I think a number of spectators are eager to see
who will come out on top."
"I didn't realize Jilk was so skilled. Oh, there's his name." It brought Livia a bit
of delight to see him on the list of other competitors, but something weighed
on her mind. "Leon isn't participating?"
"Leon? His grades are terrible, and he barely has the qualifications to
compete. Besides, the first-years have Jilk. We needn't consider anyone else."
In Livia's estimation, Leon was capable of doing just about anything, so she
was sure he could ride. Although, all things given, it was likely Jilk was simply
better at it.
"That's unfortunate," she murmured. "I think I would have enjoyed cheering
for Leon."
"Yes, I agree, but he's not particularly motivated. He was gushing earlier
about how he was going to 'make bank.'"
Livia shook her head. "I wish he wasn't so hooked on gambling."
"I couldn't agree more."
***
Marie and Kyle had left the café to do some shopping, and now they
returned, both cradling bags in their arms. On the way, Marie paused to check
the tournament roster for the airbike race and briefly scanned over the other
events as well. The names of one of her five love interests appeared in each of
the different competitions.
"If everyone wins, we'll have enough money to reach our target. Then we
won't have to worry about our budget anymore."
Kyle's face drooped with exhaustion. "Why not use all the money we've
earned already to bet on their victory? They're the anticipated winners anyway,
right? And if they do win, the payouts will be enormous."
To Kyle's evident surprise, Marie firmly shook her head. "Absolutely not. I
detest gambling."
She hated it with every fiber of her being.
I felt the same way in my previous life. My boyfriend lost money that way all
the freaking time, and all it did was push us further into debt. I want to earn as
much as possible, but we have to do it slow and steady.
"Steady" was a bit questionable at this point, but regardless, Marie had only
bitter memories when it came to gambling.
Things are no different in this world. My parents here have nothing to their
name because of their gambling debt. Hmph. Makes me miss my old family.
Everything was better back then. I had so much fun when I was a kid.
By contrast, calling her current family—a viscount house—even remotely
decent would be flattery of the highest order.
Marie shifted the bags in her arms and started back toward their café. "Well,
time to get to it and start earning more cash. I expect your help, Kyle."
"I suppose I have no other choice. I'll do my best to earn my keep."
The two of them left the tournament roster, returning to a troubling situation
at the café: Julius and the others, swarmed by a stampede of women.
***
The third day of the festival was finally upon us—the day of the main events.
I sat pretty on a cushy sofa in a premium lounge overlooking the oversized
arena. The coffee table before me creaked under mountains of gold and silver
coins as well as stacks of cash. I couldn't stop grinning as I counted them.
"Master, about the next race… It seems several of the competitors are
coordinating to help one specific member win. We should change our
predictions to numbers twelve and four," said Luxion through my surreptitious
earpiece. He'd sneaked into the waiting room for the athletes to secretly gather
intel, i.e., this was how I'd amassed my new fortune.
I called a waiter over. "I'd like to change my bets to numbers twelve and four
for the next race. Here you are."
I handed the waiter a wad of cash, and he retreated for a moment before
returning with the ticket proof of my bet.
I threw my arms over the back of the couch and scanned the room, where the
other waiters rushed about to register everyone else's bets. "Winning is so
much fun!"
Across from me, Angie and Livia fixed me with icy glares. The two of them sat
beside one another, sipping juice as they watched the festivities.
"You really do enjoy being an instigator." Angie shook her head.
"Leon, if you get addicted to gambling, it will come back to haunt you later,"
Livia warned.
All around us sat students who'd bet enormous sums of money only to lose it
all. I had no doubt they resented me for my winning streak.
"It's fine. I'm not going to lose. At this rate, even if I did lose once or twice, I'm
winning so much it wouldn't even matter."
The towers of gold and silver coins gleamed beneath the light. Soon enough,
just as Luxion predicted, number twelve won first place and number four took
second. I had again earned another heap of cash.
"Ah, I can't stop grinning!"
I had raked in so much money at this point that it made the little bit I'd lost on
my café seem laughable. Plus, in the next race, Jilk was making his debut.
Jilk—that is, Jilk Fia Marmoria—hailed from a court viscounty and was Prince
Julius's best friend and foster brother. His long green hair and gentle smile hid
the personality of a malicious schemer. However, he was also a talented airbike
rider. Despite being a first-year, he was considered one of the most promising
contenders.
You better make me rich, Jilk.
"Master, there's a slight problem."
The moment Luxion spoke in my hidden earpiece, I had a sudden premonition
—a bad one. I hunched forward and massaged my temples, indicating I was
ready to listen.
"Jilk is the representative for the first-years, just as planned, but it seems he's
being targeted."
Targeted?
My expression turned grim as I glanced down at the arena.
Concerned, Livia said, "Oh, I guess you really did want to participate, didn't
you, Leon?"
"Huh?" I tilted my head at her in confusion.
Angie wore a guilty look. "I'm sorry. Jilk was the majority vote on the
executive committee. My opinion alone wouldn't have swayed them."
"Hmm?"
Huh—did the two of them think I wanted to race? True, I had volunteered to
take part, but only because boys were required to put their names up for at
least one event. I didn't particularly want to race, though. I'd planned to spend
my time earning dough, and I'd gotten what I wanted.
From the perspective of a more normal male student, however, these events
provided a prime opportunity to appeal to girls. With an outstanding
performance here, you could change the way the ladies viewed you. In other
words, winning could give a guy an enormous leg-up in the struggle to secure a
partner. Thus, some boys grew so obsessed with winning that they got sneaky
to secure victory.
I didn't think that was the only thing going on in Jilk's case, however.
Something was off from the moment he left the starting line.
Angie noticed immediately. "They've marked Jilk."
Although only a first-year, his talent stood out. He could've been targeted for
that alone, but something about this seemed personal. The other competitors
surrounded him and smashed against his bike. This was an attack, pure and
simple.
Tears welled in Livia's eyes. "H-how can they do such a thing?! I feel so awful
for Mister Jilk!"
Yeah, me too! I'd bet on Jilk, after all, and it'd suck for me personally if he lost.
Livia's concern, on the other hand, was probably more instinct than anything
else. Maybe somewhere deep down, she knew they could have fallen in love if
things had played out just a little differently.
Not that this had anything to do with me.
"So that's what's going on," Angie mumbled. "Those competitors are Clarice's
followers. She's from an earl family."
Livia tilted her head. "Clarice? Um, is she…?"
As the competitors moved into the final leg of the race, Jilk broke through the
upperclassmen's ranks to take the lead. He had to deploy some insane acrobatic
moves to slip out of their blockade.
"The way he's accelerating, it's almost as if he's tampered with his bike to
make it faster than everyone else's," Luxion observed.
It did look like his bike performed on a different level than the rest—that was
how magnificently he managed to overtake them, and all at the last second.
Naturally, the crowd went wild.
I was happy, too, of course. You know, for betting reasons.
"However, even if he manages to win this one, he won't be able to go into the
finals," said Luxion.
"Think he's done for the day then?" I muttered quietly so the girls wouldn't
hear me.
"He's broken a rib," Luxion reported. "It cracked in the first attack, but after
he pushed himself at the end, it snapped. No matter how convenient your
people's healing magic may be, they won't have him ready for the next race."
Jilk had barely managed to squeeze through the goal ahead of everyone else.
As soon as he got back to the airship at the finish line, he collapsed, and the
medical personnel had to carry him away on a stretcher.
Angie jumped to her feet and started toward the door.
"Hey!" I called after her. "Where are you going?"
"I am the head representative for the first-years at the festival. I must confirm
the extent of Jilk's injuries and, if needed, call on a substitute. I'm going to
speak with the other executive committee members."
Livia started after her.
I grabbed a bag and shoveled all the money on the table into it before
hurrying along behind them.
***
"Jiiilk!" Marie's voice reverberated off the walls of the medical office. She
clung to him as he lay in bed, bawling her eyes out.
He smiled, trying to reassure her. The white of the bandages wrapped around
his head stood out starkly against the green of his long hair. "I'll be all right,
Miss Marie. As you can see, I'm still alive."
Prince Julius and Kyle were in the room as well. The rest of Team Love Interest
were all wrapped up in their own individual events.
Meanwhile, Angie spoke with the other first-year executive committee
members. "I suppose we'll have to find a replacement."
They all looked troubled by her statement.
"B-but the problem is, who could we pick?"
"All the other talented boys are participating in different events. It won't be
easy to find someone worthy."
Meanwhile, Livia grasped my arm and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Do,
um, do you think Mister Jilk will be all right?"
"He'll be good as new in three days. Pretty incredible they can heal a broken
bone that quickly."
Magic sure was amazing. With that speed, it was almost like this world was
trying to show up the medical science of my previous one.
"Depending on the conditions of the injury, I could have him healed up in a
day," Luxion dutifully noted in my earpiece. "No, I wouldn't even need a full
twenty-four hours."
Livia looked puzzled. "Three days? That seems long. I could have him healed
up much faster than that."
Few people in the world could use healing magic. The protagonist had
particular skill in that arena; it certainly made her special enough to be named
the Saint. But Livia had no clue she was so precious. From her perspective,
everyone's failure to accomplish the things she could do so effortlessly was a
total mystery.
"Livia, your idea of normal is actually pretty abnormal," I said, hoping to
convince her to keep her skills on the down low for now. "It's best you keep
that commentary to yourself or you might annoy the doctor."
"R-really? Well, if you say so…"
Although she didn't seem to fully grasp my implication, I found it endearing
that she took my advice so easily.
Please, stop, or I'll actually fall for you.
More importantly, while I knew Livia was more proficient at healing than the
specialists at the school, the revelation of her power would inevitably cause
problems. It would hurt the doctor's pride, sure, but worse, the rumors of the
event would attract all kinds of undesirable outcomes. We had to be discreet
about when and where Livia made her power apparent.
"But the prize for the airbike race was so huge! My mooooney!" Marie wailed,
at last revealing the true (and frankly, deplorable) reason for her distress.
Prince Julius softly laid his hand on her back in an attempt to assuage her
grief. "It'll be all right, Marie. The others and I will win our events, I promise."
Unsurprisingly for a noble's academy, they allotted a tremendous amount of
money for the festival event prizes. In terms of my previous world, it was
equivalent to several million yen. The prize pool for each event differed,
though, and the airbike race clocked in the highest at about thirty mill. That
discrepancy clearly indicated the popularity of the event.
"But I was really counting on this one," Marie moaned. "All the others
combined still only add up to half the prize money for the airbike race!"
Jilk looked guilty. "I-I apologize. I never thought they would go so far."
Marie wiped away her tears. "Seriously, aren't the upperclassmen being
horribly cruel? We should demand compensation for your injuries."
Both Jilk and Prince Julius blushed, as if she were showing concern for them,
not her profit.
They do say love is blind.
"She's been on about money this entire time. Does that really not bother
them?" I grumbled quietly.
Livia furrowed her brows. "I'm, um, sure she's worried about Mister Jilk, too.
They did all abandon their positions to be together, after all."
Yeah, yeah, they'd thrown away their titles for her. Prince Julius and the
others had all been heirs, born with silver spoons, the world their oyster, all
that jazz—but in their devotion to Marie, they'd broken off their engagements
and, subsequently, been disowned.
Honestly? It was a bit disturbing how readily they'd sacrificed everything.
"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that," I told Livia. "She seems to love money
more than them. That's all she's talked about since we got here."
Just then, the door flew open and some upperclassmen barged in. At the
head was a second-year, the daughter of an earl house—Clarice Fia Atlee. She
had voluminous orange hair pulled in a low ponytail over her right shoulder.
Last I'd seen her, she'd dressed like a real aristocrat, but she'd come out of
summer break looking more like a gyaru—full-on Japanese proto-punk. Despite
the style change, she was still tall, slender, and beautiful enough to model.
Her new look probably shocked everyone who'd known her as Jilk's prim and
proper fiancée—ahem, ex-fiancée. Nonetheless, she was the daughter of court
nobility, and she had sway. A squadron of male followers trailed after her, as
well as five demi-human servants. They fanned out behind her, as if she had
instructed them to show themselves off.
"Oh my, you look bedraggled," she said, surveying the man to whom she'd
once been betrothed. "Tell me, Jilk, how do you feel?"
Between her cleavage showing through a partially unbuttoned shirt and her
untidy uniform, I couldn't figure out whether she was going for a fashion
statement or just being a delinquent.
Wait. I guess they're basically the same thing at this academy, aren't they?
Her followers sneered at the rest of us, but the moment they recognized
Angie, they hurriedly corrected their behavior.
Jilk, meanwhile, closed his eyes. Perhaps he couldn't stand looking at the
evidence of what his betrayal had done to Clarice. I thought she was rocking her
new style, personally. Although as long as a girl was cute, I didn't care what she
wore.
"So you really were the one behind this, Clarice," Jilk said.
"That's right! After you threw me aside like that, I decided to make you suffer
worse than I ever did. I will never forgive you!"
When someone that beautiful snapped, it was, in a word, terrifying. Her
intimidating aura made her seem like a new, far more threatening person.
"Woof, the fury of a pretty girl is rough," I muttered.
"Leon, how can you say something like that?" Livia whispered. "Please, be
serious about this!"
I honored Livia's plea by shutting my trap.
Angie stepped between the feuding ex-couple. She glared, staring down the
other girl. "Please, Clarice, this is a medical facility. I may understand how you
feel, but openly defying the rules of the race? Are you out of your mind?"
Clarice took a step back but smiled. Her unkempt hair just served to make her
look even wilder. "Don't you preach at me. None of this would have happened
if you'd reined in the prince. You have some nerve, acting all fine and dandy
after your betrothed threw you away just like mine did. I can't believe you. You
should be screaming at him the way you used to screech at everyone else!"
Angie's brows knit. She did have that short fuse. You just had to nudge her a
little and she'd explode. Although, she had mellowed out a bit lately. Probably
Livia's influence.
"Pardon me, you think I'm 'fine'?" Angie scoffed. "Do you imagine yourself
the heroine of some tragedy? It certainly seems like it, the way you parade
around that trail of servants. I suppose your ladylike behavior before was
nothing more than a facade."
"Grr…! What would you know?!"
They looked as if they were about to start throwing fists, so Clarice's followers
intervened. Angie was a duke's daughter, after all. They didn't want to make a
real enemy out of her.
I guess even followers have their struggles. I can sympathize a little.
Clarice turned her ire back toward Jilk, who was still lying there with his eyes
closed. He wouldn't even look at her.
Have you realized yet how much you screwed up? I wondered. This is entirely
your fault, you dip. Do something about it.
"You better be out there for the next race," Clarice said to him. "I'm going to
have you beaten within an inch of your life—in front of everyone. And I'll do it
over and over again. You'll cry, and cry, and beg me for forgiveness. Not that
you'll ever receive it!"
Huh, you guys, I think she might be pissed.
"If that will quell your anger, then do as you will," said Jilk, cool as a bangedup
cucumber. "Simply know that if you ever move against Marie or my friends, I
will be the one bearing a grudge."
By this point, Marie had faded into the background, forgotten. She only
snapped back to reality once Jilk mentioned her name, and flinched when she
finally faced Clarice. And then, as if a flip had been switched, Marie was back to
her cutesy act—ugh. Hated seeing that.
This chick really is the pitch-perfect successor to my little sister. Always
pretending to be good when faced with other people. Hate it, hate it, hate it.
"Revenge won't get you anywhere," said Marie. "You should worry more
about—"
"Don't speak as if you know what I've been through! It 'won't get me
anywhere'? So what? You think I care?!"
"I-I'm sorry! You're absolutely right!"
That paper-thin acquiescence only fueled Clarice's anger. Little surprise there.
Being spoken to like that by the homewrecker who stole your man would
infuriate any girl.
More importantly, Angie's eyes also filled with hatred as she glowered at
Marie.
At that, Prince Julius pushed his way between them. "That's enough. Angelica,
don't look at Marie that way."
Angie deflated. "My apologies, Your Highness."
Ugh, I'm so envious. He's really got that royal vibe down pat.
Prince Julius turned his attention back toward Clarice. "I understand why you
have difficulty forgiving Jilk, but I implore you to cease this vile behavior at
once."
Clarice dropped her gaze, a dark smile on her face. She looked almost
maniacal. "You're really going to say that to me? Do you not understand how
many people's lives were derailed by that one girl? It's not just Angie. It's me
and all the other girls you threw over—people talk constantly, behind our
backs, to our faces. Did you know that? No, you didn't. There's no way any of
you could know."
Marie's quest to achieve a reverse harem had created a nightmare for other
people.
I knew it. This otome game world is downright wretched.
Prince Julius sounded genuinely sorrowful when he said, "I know we have no
right to defend ourselves to you who we spurned, but still, I can't let you keep
lashing out like this. It won't benefit you either."
I snorted, and before I could help myself, I spoke. "Wow, look at Mr. Perfect
over here, he's really got it all—right face, right words, the whole shebang. I
mean, you also dumped your fiancée after being seduced, but somehow you
make it sound reasonable. I guess a pretty face really is all that matters."
"Leon, that's a no-no!" Livia shook her finger at me. "You can't say things like
that. No-no!"
Goddamnit. She was absolutely adorable. I really did understand how she'd
been the nexus of the intended reverse harem. Her fundamental charm made
the whole thought seem less offensive to me than, say, when I had to look at
Marie and her bevy of dumb idiot boy toys. The protagonist's appeal was
fearsome indeed.
Prince Julius shot a glare at me, so I turned my gaze ceilingward and clamped
my mouth shut.
Clarice spun on her heel. "If you do come out, Jilk, I'll make sure they crush
you. If you don't, then whoever takes your place will face my wrath in your
stead. I'm going to make sure the message is loud and clear—no matter what
happens, you are not forgiven."
She smirked as she stalked out. The atmosphere she left behind was tense
and uneasy.
I breathed a sigh. "Well, no substitutes for you, I guess. No one's going to
want to volunteer with that threat hanging over their heads."
Jilk struggled to lift his injured body out of bed. "Ugh!"
"Jilk, stop!" Prince Julius held his friend down, but Jilk seemed determined.
"Please release me, Your Highness. No one else will get hurt as long as I go
out there. That's the best way to handle this."
The best way to handle this would have been to not break off your
engagements to begin with, birdbrain.
It was a bit late to say as much now, but I yearned to drive the point home.
With things as they were—the future Saint abandoned, the five noble bozos
disowned, all these spiraling consequences—I was starting to doubt my ability
to anticipate the future. I didn't like that, not one bit.
Suddenly, I realized the other executive committee members were sneaking
glances at me.
"Um, hey, what do you think about using Bartfort?"
"You do realize his grades were barely good enough to permit him to
compete, right?"
"If anyone's going to get the crap beaten out of them, better him than Jilk."
With that, all of them had their gazes fixed on me.
Angie came down on them with the wrath of, well, Angie. "I have no intention
of sending Leon out there. How could we let anyone participate after hearing
that tirade? I'm sorry, but the first-years will simply have to withdraw."
The moment Marie heard that, she shrieked, panicking. "Wait a minute! What
will happen to the prize money?!"
If looks could kill, Marie would have dropped dead from the murder on
Angie's face. "What does that matter? What amount of money could be worth
even more injuries like Jilk's?"
The voice of reason, at last! Took a weight off my chest, let me tell you. I had
no intention of participating anyway, but I knew if I did, the crowd would
definitely be over the moon to see the crap kicked outta me.
No way in hell I'm going out there.
Although… Huh.
"B-but if we don't find a substitute, your reputation could be at stake, Lady
Angelica!" one of the other representatives protested.
"That's right. You're the representative for the first-years. It will reflect poorly
if you can't find someone," said another.
"If only we could find a person willing to race…" said the third.
I tilted my head, contemplating.
Meanwhile, Marie latched onto the representatives' remarks, desperate to
fling me to the wolves. "They're absolutely right! If we don't find someone out
there, Lady Angelica will be in trouble! Right, Julius?"
God, this twit makes me see red. Every time I heard her voice, I heard my
sister—all of my sisters, actually, both the ones in my current world and the one
from my previous. What a godawful chorus.
"Uh, yes, I suppose so," the prince stammered. "Angelica is our head
representative, after all. It would very likely reflect poorly on her if she weren't
able to offer a standin. People might question her capabilities."
I glanced at Angie, who gave me a troubled smile in return.
"I'm not worried about it," she insisted. "It's not worth someone getting hurt
for my sake. I don't want to cause you any more trouble than I already have."
Whoa, okay, wait a minute—what now?!
First of all, what was this talk of Angie taking the fall? And if anyone was going
to be the scapegoat, why couldn't it be a spoiled brat like, say, Prince Julius?! I
could give a crap about his reputation.
But Angie… I couldn't let Angie's image take a hit. She was basically only in
this predicament because she'd protected me. I owed her—and her daddy, if
we're being excruciatingly honest. He'd stuck by me all through the fallout of
that duel, and if I abandoned Angie here, her dad would definitely consider that
my fault.
All right, so what was I going to do?
Get pissed off, of course. I was ever the indignant whiner.
"Fine, I'll go."
"What?" Livia blurted in surprise.
Angie gawked. "Leon, I pray you don't pity me—"
"It's not pity! Just get the paperwork done and get me a bike."
One of the executive committee members practically ran out the door.
"Awesome! I'll go let everyone know."
Yeah, he means he's going to go tell the whole school I'm about to get my butt
handed to me. Delightful.
"Leon, you're not pushing yourself, are you?" Livia asked, her face so bright
with concern it blinded me.
"Pushing myself? Nah. I'm being a stubborn jerk!" Really, I had no choice.
Angie's face remained clouded. "No, you can't do this. Clarice's cronies are
experienced riders. One of them was last year's champion. If they get rough,
there's no limit to what they might do."
"Doesn't matter. This is one of those times when a guy's gotta do what a
guy's gotta do!"
At this, the girls seemed to realize they were no match for my determination.
"Leon," Angie said, "if…if you're going to go that far, I won't try to dissuade
you again. But I'll be praying for your victory."
"I-I'll be supporting you as well," Livia stammered. "I promise I will!"
Thank you both, seriously.
In any case, this was now more than me swanning into someone else's
grudge-match—I was in real political danger if I lost the regard of Angie's dad by
failing to give it my all.
Marie was, of course, pleased as punch. "Well, that settles that! This works
for me even if you lose. But if you do win, that prize money is mine. Yes, this is
perfect!"
Would anyone have blamed me if I slammed my fist into that smug mug of
hers? I didn't think so. Welp. Just made me even less willing to part with all the
prize money I now intended to win for myself.
Jilk glanced at my face. Disappointment colored his expression as he turned
away.
What, you hate me that much, huh?! Well, the feeling's mutual! I hate your
guts, too!
After a pause, he finally said, "I suppose I have no choice but to rely on you."
"Cry me a river of gratitude, you treacherous green snake," I replied with a
grin. "Because you will owe me for this."
He chuckled. "I'm sure I'll owe you quite a bit."
"And you better be ready, because I'm going to have you pay up
immediately."
With that, I left and began my preparations to enter the airbike race.
"Luxion," I called, "it's showtime."
"Of course, Master."